


Fluidity

by BetweenLines55



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid Sirius, Homophobic Language, Mentions of Suicide, Multi, Other, Trans Character, mentions of dysphoria, mentions of self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-20 19:58:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3663024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BetweenLines55/pseuds/BetweenLines55
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius wore pronouns like one might wear a coat. Easily slipped on. Easily slipped off. Traded in when it stopped fitting or serving its purpose.<br/>.<br/>Genderfluid!Sirius and the time and trials of figuring out who they are. Wolfstar and Jily later on. Warnings in the tags.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. He/Him/His

Sirius wore pronouns like one might wear a coat. Easily slipped on. Easily slipped off. Traded in when it stopped fitting or serving its purpose.

He/Him/His

Remus remembers fondly the 11-year-old boy Sirius was when they met. The epitome of pureblooded, aristocratic male heir; trying to make a world love him.

It’s the boy that Remus falls in love with. Everything else Sirius is, everything else Sirius wants to be, comes along for the ride.

For a while, Sirius is just another annoying, messy roommate that is another liability if they are to become friends. They’re friendly enough with one another, as superficially friendly as two 11-year-olds have the ability to be. Sirius and Remus pass by each other, on paths going in opposite directions. When they come together, it’s over breakfast when the entire House is groggy and not in their right mind enough to care who they talk to.

Remus mentions something about missing Wales. Sirius says that he’s happy he’s not back home, stuck in London where it smells awful and the help is mean to him. He passes Remus a cup of tea with milk in sugar, assuming that the other boy takes his tea the same way he does.

Remus doesn’t take tea with milk and sugar.

He drinks the too sweet, too milky beverage anyways, and says his thanks. He has manners, after all. Sirius gives him an appraising smirk, “You’re not bad, Lupin. Not bad at all.”

They come and go. They pass by each other like two constellations never in sky at the same time… until second year, when Sirius doesn’t show up to class.

Remus is the first to notice. He can’t help it because McGonagall put them next to one another, learning her lesson in first year that James and Sirius couldn’t be trusted to be put together. The seat to the right of him is empty and cold, and suddenly, Remus feels the same way. He tries to remember when he last saw the other boy, and he thinks of that morning; Sirius’ dark hair, long and curling now, spread across his pillows as he buried himself under the covers.

James is the next to notice. He gives Remus a questioning look. All Remus can do is shrug his shoulders. He knows he’s not much help but there’s nothing he can do about it.

Finally, McGonagall notices.

“Has anyone seen Mr. Black lately?” Her shrewd gaze lingers over each and every one of her students. Remus can hear to the left of him some of the Slytherins they share class with snicker.

He raises his hand, “I last saw him in the dorms, this morning, Professor.”

Professor McGonagall pauses for a moment, before nodding, “Very well. Mr. Lupin, please go track down Mr. Black, and make sure he knows that he will be suffering consequences in his decision to skip class.”

Remus gathers up his things. He doesn’t look James in the eye, who is surely scowling at him for being the one picked to retrieve Sirius. On his way out of the classroom, he can’t help but think that James would probably have been better suited for the job.

It takes him a while to get to the dormitory, and by the time he climbs through the portrait hole and up the steps, his joints are aching and his head hurts. It only reminds him that the full is drawing closer. James would definitely have been better suited, Remus thinks, if only because he doesn’t have the temperament of a werewolf.

He pushes open the door to the dorm. The first thing he notices is the sound of someone crying. The next thing is that the curtains to Sirius’ bed are shut. Remus doesn’t want to disturb him, doesn’t want to be the _one_ to disturb him, if Sirius just needs space.

But they're mates. Sort of. They get along well enough, and Remus would feel guilty for forever if he didn’t at least attempt to help.

“Sirius? Are you alright?” He asks the air tentatively.

The crying immediately stops. There’s a rustling of fabric as Sirius shifts on his sheets behind the curtains. “ _Go away_ , Lupin. Can’t a man have some peace and quiet to brood to himself!?”

If he had known ahead of time, Remus wouldn’t have said what he did: “You’re hardly a man, Sirius, and you’re hardly brooding so—,”

Sirius emerges from behind the bed curtains in a frenzy of movement. The look in his bloodshot eyes is frantic and angry. He looks more furious than sad as he vaults himself from the bed and tackles Remus. The two boys go down kicking and punching, or more accurately: Remus goes down with Sirius kicking and punching on top of him.

“ _Shut up, shut up, shut up, Lupin._ You don’t know _anything_!”

His words are accented with angry punches and heavy breathing made loud and nasally with tears and snot.

The sardonic humor of using his werewolf strength to stop Sirius’ attack is not lost on Remus, even as he grabs onto Sirius’ wrists and doesn’t let go. Stilling him seems to take all the fight out of him, and Sirius slumps over Remus’ chest, still breathing hard.

Remus, with aching limbs, manages to get them into an upright position. He leans them against the footboard of his bed, which is next to Sirius’.

“I’m sorry, Sirius.” He says, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Don’t be. You’re right. I’m not a man.”

“Sirius—,”

“I don’t feel like one. I don’t feel like a boy either. I-I don’t know what I am, but I know I don’t like it.” Sirius whispers. Nothing about Sirius condones whispering. Sirius is shouting at the top of one’s lungs, yelling to high heaven on a hot summer’s day, big smiles and sweeping gestures. Not whispers in empty dormitories.

 _Dysphoria_. That’s what a shrink would call it. Remus knows the feeling, when he isn’t happy being human. When he wants to be the wolf. When the wolf is clawing to get out and Remus feelings like ripping his skin off just to get free.

He looks closer and there are scratches on Sirius’ hands and arms and spots of blood under the sleeves of his sleep shirt. Remus apparently isn’t the only one who is unhappy with his physical state sometimes.

“Come on,” Remus says, steeling his gaze or he’ll never get up, “We’re going to clean you up.”

Remus guides Sirius to his bed. The sheets have been ripped and wrinkled and untucked. The blankets are at the bottom of the bed. He makes Sirius sit and gets out his wand.

He cleans the scratches over Sirius’ arms and chest. Sirius slumps and doesn’t say a word. Remus offers to tie back his hair. Sirius allows it. The curls feel rich and soft under Remus’ fingers. Sirius has hair a model would die for.

“It’s called dysphoria.” Remus says. He doesn’t know why he’s started to talk, but it helps fill the tense silence that’s between them. Sirius doesn’t look up at him exactly, doesn’t raise his head, but looks at him through wavy strands of hair that don’t quite fit back in the ribbon Remus has tied.

“You’re not the only one who gets it.” Remus says. Sirius scoffs, “You really have a clue as to what I’m going through?” He sounds disbelieving.

“Well, sort of,” It’s now or never, Lupin, “I’m a werewolf. It’s sometimes the same feeling. When the wolf wants to be free and it can’t.”

The look on Sirius’ face really is disbelieving now. For a moment, Remus thinks that Sirius is going to grab his wand and hex him to death but after a second, Sirius says, “Blood hell, that explains everything.”

“Was I really that obvious?” Remus asks, nervous. He puts his wand in his back pocket and wrings his hands.

Sirius shakes his head, “Nah, but the lads and I had a bet going. Shit, I owe Pete 5 Galleons now, he guessed werewolf.”

They meets each other’s gazes for a moment before both bursting out into laughter. Remus feels shaky and relieved; he can still feel the adrenaline coursing through him. Sirius reaches out to him and takes his hands.

“In all seriousness, though,” He grins for a second at his pun before the looks melts away, “You—you know what I’m going through?”

Remus sits beside him on the bed. He’s shocked for a moment when Sirius leans his head on his thin, bony shoulder. It can’t be comfortable. However, in his year and a half with Sirius and the others, he’s realized that Sirius is exceptionally touch starved, and seeks out contact whenever possible. Usually, it’s just with James, so to now be Sirius’ source of comfort makes some sort of pride well up inside him.  

“Yeah,” Remus says, “At least, a bit. I’ve never questioned my gender, really, but I _have_ been uncomfortable in my own skin.”

“Like you want to rip it off and crawl out of it.” Sirius says. He voice is soft.

“Yeah, like that.”

Sirius surprises him again (for what, the millionth time) and squeezes his hand, “Would…would you not tell the others about this. I won’t tell them about the werewolf thing. That’s yours to tell.”

“This is yours, too. I won’t tell them. And Sirius?”

Sirius raised his head to look at him, “Yeah?”

“You don’t have to figure it out right away. You’ve got time.”

There’s a ghost of Sirius’ usual smirk on his face, “Yeah, you’re right. You know, you’re pretty smart, Lupin.”

.

A few things change after that.

After full moons, Remus finds a bar of chocolate under his pillow. The good stuff, shipped in from off school grounds. He knows it’s from Sirius, even if the other is good at playing dumb.

Sometimes in Transfiguration, Sirius reaches under the desk and holds Remus’ hand (they sit in the back, so Remus isn’t worried about someone seeing them, and it’s Sirius, so he doesn’t really care either) through the lesson.

James and Sirius are still an inseparable force of nature. Their pranks are still inventive and crazy as ever. But now, they involve Remus a bit more, and Peter. Now all four of them are an inseparable force of nature.

But now, Remus has his own version of Sirius to be tied at the hip to. Even though the others now know about his “furry little problem”, the bond he’s created with Sirius over it is still the strongest. The others don’t know about Sirius and his questions about himself; that’s still their secret. And that secret comes with Sirius sneaking into Remus’ bed in the witches’ hour of the morning, complaining of nightmares and skin feeling like it’s on fire.

Remus learns some cooling charms and Pomfrey doesn’t mind that he stocks up on calming draughts. Sirius, now bones and awkward angles thanks to puberty, fits himself in Remus’ bed and lights up the canopy with a whispered _lumos._

He curls up with Remus, grasps the boy’s hands in his own (Sirius has always been a bit fascinated with his hands) and whispers, “What if I never figure it out?”

Remus says, “That’s ok. You don’t have to.”

“What if I want to? What if I won’t be able to sleep at night unless I figure it out?” (Sirius’ dramatics have not been touched by his existential crisis, Remus is quick to notice.)

“Then I’ll help you, Sirius. Incidentally, you’re not alone in this world.” Remus says.

Now, Remus is the last person to say that lycanthropy isn’t all that bad. It’s horrible. It’s loathsome. He wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy. However, that doesn’t say that it doesn’t have a few perks. Sharper sight and reflexes for once. Unproportional strength. And a heightened sense of smell.

Sirius smells like sandal wood shampoo and chocolate and coffee. He’s started drinking coffee. It’s only third year. James keeps joking it’ll stunt his growth. Sirius says he’ll be short anyways, it doesn’t matter.

(Though he’ll probably outgrow Peter; it’s thrown to James and Remus to see who will be the tallest.)

Remus, in the past few months, has committed that smell to memory, whenever Sirius sneaks into his bed for comfort. It’s at least twice a week, so Remus has plenty of time to get the memory right. He memorizes how Sirius’ hands feel balled up in his nightshirt as he cries into Remus’ neck. He learns that when Sirius is upset he falls back on the French and Latin he was taught at home. He commits to memory every hope, aspiration and dream Sirius tells him.

Sirius, for his part, never serves Remus a cup of milky, sugary tea ever again. It’s always plain and scalding, just like Remus likes it.


	2. She/Her/Hers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> new pronouns, new challenges. Sorry for the slow update.
> 
> This chapter could alternatively be titled: "Why McGonagall is a Bad Ass", "Lily Evans is a BAMF", "I Love Marlene McKinnon With All my Heart" and/or "James Tries Oh So Very Hard"

She/Her/Hers

“You’ll still be my best mate, right?” James asks. For his part, he’s taken the news quite well. Remus had previously been worried; a fourteen year old boy could have a wide variety of reactions when told that his best mate prefers being called a girl rather than a boy.

But you could hardly call Sirius a girl. She’s blossoming into a young woman already. Her hair hangs long, curling down to the middle of her back. Her legs are long, her cheek bones high, her lips red and pouty. It’s well known in the wizarding community that you could hardly call any of the Blacks physically unappealing. They all have the very attractive, English aristocratic look to them, but Sirius is, by far, the most beautiful.

“Of course, you prat,” Sirius says, good-naturedly, “You’re not getting rid of me so easily. Besides, do you think you could honestly plan a successful prank without me?”

James exclaims something that sounds like a curse and tackles Sirius off the bed. They roll around for a couple of seconds between James’ bed and Peter’s. Neither of them manage to get the upper hand.

After they’ve exhausted themselves, Sirius’ reclines back on her elbows and pushes her hair out of her face. “So, whataya think, Pete?”

Peter’s silence worries Remus, but the look on his face tells the werewolf that he’s processing what Sirius told them. He doesn’t seem disgusted, just puzzled. His brow is furrowed, and he scratches his chin as he contemplates.

“Does this mean we should start pulling out chairs for you and holding doors open or something?” Pete finally says. Remus feels a weight lift off his chest as Sirius throws her head of curls back and laughs.

“Don’t worry about it Pete,” Sirius says, “If you forget, it’s no big deal.”

Remus knows Sirius is talking about the unnecessary acts of chivalry, but he can’t help but think Sirius is referring to the pronoun situation. The lads might slip up in the beginning, and he hopes to Merlin it doesn't cause Sirius’ too many feelings of dysphoria and invalidity.

The night Sirius decided on her new identity, there were a lot of tears. That was a long night, as Sirius curled into Remus’ side and cried, half in joy, half in sadness that she’d figured it out. It had brought up a lot of questions: When would she tell her parents? _Could_ she tell her parents? What were the others going to think? What was _her brother_ going to think?

In the end, Remus had urged her to at least tell James and Peter, so they would have a sense as to what was going on. They needed to know if one misused pronoun was going to send Sirius spiraling into an episode of self-hatred and dysphoria. And the fact that they had both taken it so well was good news and made the possibility for House-wide acceptance all the stronger.

James’ and Sirius’ wrestling ends with Sirius on top of her best mate and obviously winning.

“Do you yield, Potter?” Sirius asks haughtily.

“Yeah, I yield. Now let me up, ‘s supper time.”

Pete’s stomach growls, causing everyone in the room to laugh. The four exit the dormitory with the single thought of treacle tart on their minds.

Supper had been nice. The dynamic in the group hadn’t changed due to the news of Sirius’ new identity. Even better, Sirius had tucked her foot next to Remus’ under the table and kept it there throughout the meal. As they walk back to the common room from the Great Hall, James puts an arm around Sirius’ shoulders and they proceed to sing an old Wizarding drinking song Remus can’t name.

Everything is perfect until they get back to the dorms and there’s only three beds. More accurately, the bed missing happens to be Sirius’. Everything of hers is gone from the dorm—trunk, books, shoes, her towel that had been thrown over the back of a chair. Everything had disappeared, like magic.

Well, definitely magic.

“My things! What the hell, if this is some kind of prank—!”

“Honestly, Sirius, we didn’t—,”

“But we’ll find out who did!”

Remus searches out Sirius’ hand and takes it in his own. “We can ask the Fat Lady if anyone came through the portrait, and surely we can ask Nearly Headless Nick.”

“Yes!” James agrees, puffing out his chest and putting his hands on his hips, “We’re going to get to the bottom of this. We will search high and low and—,”

Before he can finish what Remus is sure would’ve been a speech worthy of the history books, Marlene McKinnon bursts into the room, her blonde hair as wild as her eyes. “Sirius’ things have just shown up in our room and as Official Marauders Liaison I came to confront you about it.”

“My things are in your room?” Sirius exclaims.

 “Wait, Official Marauders Liaison? You have one of those?” James asks, distracted.

“The House Elves must’ve moved them.” Remus says, somewhat in awe, “After, well.”

“Yeah.” Sirius breathes, a smile growing on her face that lights up her eyes in a way Remus hasn’t seen in a while, “Yeah.”

Marlene raises her eyebrows in question, “Feel free to clue me in whenever.” She puts her hands on her hips—a very James-like gesture, but they’re cousins after all. That’s probably why she’s the chosen OML.

All eyes go to Sirius, who clears her throat before saying, “I-I’ve decided I’d like to use female pronouns for now. Ah…”

Understanding dawns quickly on Marlene’s face, “Oh, Sirius, that’s brill! You’re a right beautiful girl.”

Sirius blushes, an out of character action but Remus knows that this is so important for her, this validation, “Um, thanks.”

“Yeah, come on, we should tell the others.” Marlene says. She sounds excited and Sirius is flushed from happiness.

“Okay,” Sirius says, in a daze. She turns to the rest of them and says, “Guess I’ll see you lads tomorrow, then.”

“G’night, Sirius,” Pete says. This is a Big Step towards Something Important, and Pete seems to be the only one capable of speech. Remus sees James swallow noticeably and nod. As Sirius is pulled out of the room, she casts a lingering look at Remus, who does his best to give a nod of encouragement.

He knows that Sirius is in good hands, she’s with people that will undoubtedly support her.

Even so, the dorm seems too empty without her.

“They grow up so fast,” Pete says.

James swallows again. “Yeah, Pete. I guess they do.”

…

The next morning, Remus drags himself to bed. He almost asks Sirius if she wants to use the loo first but then stops himself just in time.

He goes through the motions of putting on clothes and getting ready for morning classes. He realizes he’s being selfish, but he doesn’t have the heart to care. He misses Sirius awfully, even if she only moved a staircase away. An impenetrable staircase away, though, Remus justifies.

“We’ll have to rig some sort of communication system. How can we plan pranks if he— _she_ , if she is halfway across the tower?” James says on the way down to breakfast. He seems to be fairing about as well as Remus is, which is to say, not well at all.

“It’s really not so bad,” Peter says, which makes James stop and turn on him in a huff.

“What do you _mean_ it’s not so bad? We just lost our fourth ma—member, how can you say that it’s not so bad?!”

Peter shrugs, “I mean, girls are still allowed up the boys’ staircase right? Sirius can come up any time she likes.”

“Oh,” James says, “Right.” He’s silent for the rest of the walk to breakfast.

They take their seats in the middle of the table like usual. They’ve beaten most of the rush. It’s odd how quickly they all got ready without a fourth person needing the bathroom.

Five minutes later, after Remus and James only half-heartedly nibble on toast and even Peter eating his bacon in a much more melancholy fashion than usual, the girls in their year enter the Hall.

It seems as though all eyes are upon them, or maybe that’s just Remus.

“They’ve outdone themselves,” Remus breathes.

“No bloody kidding.” James says.

Sirius walks in the middle of the group with confidence like she’s the Queen of England. She’s flanked by Marlene and Lily Evans, and although Sirius had previously been known to be at odds from time to time with Lily, she seems the best of friends with her now.

They’d gotten Sirius a proper uniform. She has a short uniform skirt on and a Gryffindor tie tied loosely around her neck. She walks down the aisle between the tables, graceful in short, black heels, like she’s born for them.

When she spots them, she hurries to her usual spot, waving at Marlene and Lily and the others, who go to their usual place father down the table.

“Morning, chaps.” Sirius says. She plops down by James, as usual, though there’s nothing usual about her appearance. It suits her though, Remus thinks, suits her just fine.

Someone, maybe Alice, did Sirius’ makeup for her. Black strokes of eyeliner over each eye and mascara and what looks like a bit of lip gloss. Her hair is tied partially back from her face; it was always long and beautiful to begin with, but now it really does look like silk. Remus’ eyes catch on to small silver studs, one in each ear, and Sirius perks up when she realizes what’s caught the werewolf’s eye.

“D’you like them?” She asks, “Mary did them last night. Hurt like a bitch, but she says with a potion she can nick from Pomfrey, they’ll heal right up and I can wear all that dangly shit that Marlene does.”

Remus finds his voice, “You look great, Sirius.”

Sirius beams, “Hell yeah I do. Merlin, stop staring, Potter, Pettigrew. I can still kick your arses even in a skirt and heels.”

James and Peter recover their voices soon after. They ease themselves back into the familiar comfort of their friendship, and even though Sirius _is_ wearing a dress, that hasn’t changed her sense of humor.

When the Great Hall finally does fill up, Sirius groans and puts her head in her hands, “Gods, everyone is looking, aren’t they?”

“Even if they are,” Remus says, “You look lovely.”

“We won’t let anyone hurt you!” James says proudly and puffs out his chest again. Sirius smacks him on the head. “Don’t do that, makes you look like a ponce.”

Her confidence restored with a few kind words, breakfast goes a bit smoother.

…

Remus takes it upon himself to be a gentleman and offers up his arm to Sirius as they leave breakfast. There people talking from all around, asking what the hell the Black Heir is up to this time, if it’s some prank gone too far, if anyone knew that Sirius was a damn fag all along. The last of those comments come from several older Slytherins, but they’re met with well-aimed hexes from all of the Marauders as well as the Gryffindor girls in their year.

The Prewett brothers, bless them, take one look at Sirius, another long look at Rosier who’d been following them through the last three corridors and turn promptly around from the direction they’d been headed to confront the Slytherin. The look of terror is plan on Rosier’s face, and as he pales and flees, Sirius throws her head back in delight.

“Bloody good of them to do that,” Sirius beams. She squeezes Remus’ forearm and it’s all he can do to grin back at her.

James skips two steps ahead of them and gets the door to the Transfiguration class for them. “My lady.”

“My lord,” Sirius echoes with a laugh before punching James solidly in the chest. James groans, throws a curse at Sirius and rubs the spot on his chest where he was punched.

Pete is just about the pull out Sirius’ chair for her, Professor McGonagall’s voice comes from the head of the room. “Mister Black?”

Remus watches as Sirius’ face crumples in on itself. Her jaw sets and she squeezes Remus’ arm so tightly that he’s suddenly very glad for the extra bit of strength his lycanthropy gives him. Otherwise, something might’ve cracked.

Remus, James and Peter open their mouths simultaneously to say something to their head of house but Lily Evans beats them to it first.

“Er, Professor?” She goes, then beckons McGonagall down to whisper into the professor’s ear. After a second, a look of realization dawns on McGonagall’s face and she straightens up.

“We still have a problem.” McGonagall says.

“Um…what do you mean, Professor?” Sirius asks, hesitantly.

“That skirt is much too short, Miss Black. Please try and remember the rules of the dress code tomorrow, yes?”

A grin splits Sirius’ face and she nods, “Yes, ma’am!”

Pete pulls out Sirius’ chair for her, to which Sirius gives him a jaunty slap on the back.

“How about that, Remus,” Sirius says as McGonagall tells the class to get out their books. They still sit next to each other in Transfiguration, two years later. It’s a ritual, one Remus enjoys very much because being with Sirius at times calms the wolf inside of him. He tries to take notes on the lesson that day, but he can’t because the smile that Sirius wears on her face is simply too distracting.

…

Sirius walks into the dorm at about five. It’s excellent timing because Remus was just about to head to the library for an hour before supper and the expression on Sirius’ face looks like she needs to talk.

She collapses without a word onto James’ bed and groans into the coverlet. James, who happens to also be on the bed, leans down to get close to Sirius’ face and asks, “You alright, mate?”

“Ugh. No. Yes. Maybe? I will be, probably, but not right now.”

They congregate on James’ bed, which is their usual congregation spot when they have Mandatory Marauder Meetings, or M-Cubed, for short. James calls the meeting to order, Pete seconds the motion and Sirius sits up enough to speak without mumbling into the sheets. Remus, Obligatory Secretary, takes out a sheet of parchment to take the minutes.

“Reg sought me out after Potions.”

Potions had been rough to begin with. Their first class of the day with the Slytherins—now Remus doesn’t like the stereotype since he’s part of a demographic that gets stereotyped enough, but their year of Slytherins are particularly nasty. It doesn’t help that Sirius’ cousin, Narcissa, is in their year, or the fact that her sister Bellatrix is a Sixth Year. Rosier and his goons, and Snape of course, are words Remus reserves for when he is truly angry, but this might be a time to break those words out.

Insults had been whispered into the moments of silence between cauldron stirring and beetle cutting. Whenever a horrible, green clad student passed by Sirius working with James, something awful was whispered loud enough for only Sirius and James to hear. It went to a point when Sirius’ grip on a cutting knife was so tight, it broke the bone handle.

“It’s old,” Slughorn said, though it was clear he knew it wasn’t, “Don’t worry about it, these things happen.” He didn’t seem comfortable with Sirius’ new preferred pronouns. He’d already mucked them up three times that lesson, and whenever he did, snickers broke out.

Sirius had more or less muddled through, however, and hadn’t looked overly affected afterwards. But now, something is wrong, and Remus and the wolf feel a sense of dread quickly making it harder to breathe.

“He said…he said he wouldn’t tell Mother and Father, which is good because I don’t know what they’d do if they were to find out.” Sirius’ tone suggests she knows exactly what her parents will do if they find out, but doesn’t want to think about it. No one presses her for information. Remus busies himself with jotting down a quick note.

“He doesn’t approve though,” Sirius chokes out, “Thinks I should stop this nonsense before I ‘ _get hurt_ ’.” This statement breaks a dam inside Sirius out comes angry tears, streaming down her cheeks and messing up her mascara. James is the closest, so he reaches out an arm to her and Sirius curls right in. They were always inseparable, and though the wolf shouts at Remus to interrupt and be the one to comfort Sirius in her time of need, the logical, human side of Remus’ brain knows better. James and Sirius were brothers before, now they’re brother and sister.

“It _hurts me_ when he says bloody stupid things like that.” Sirius sighs. Remus makes another minute. “I just—,” Sirius continues, “I just want things to be _right_.”

“You don’t have to sort everything out now,” Remus tries, has tried, to be the voice of reason in this whole thing. He wants, the wolf wants, to stop Sirius’ pain.

“I like that Hogwarts thinks of me as a girl now, but,” Sirius squeezes her eyes shut, “I miss all of you. I couldn’t hear Peter snore last night and couldn’t sleep for the life of me.”

Peter makes some sort of exclamation to defend himself, while James and Remus give weak chuckles.

“Stay with us tonight then,” James says, “You’re welcome here. Your home, your place, is with us.”

“Merlin, James, stop it,” Sirius groans, “I don’t want to cry anymore over your soppy nonsense.”

Despite her words, Sirius stays the night. She has borrowed some pajamas of Mary’s and her hair’s been plaited down her back. They all pile in James’ bed again; James sprawls on his back from behind Sirius, Pete snores loud enough to disturb the ghosts of Hogwarts, and Sirius finds her familiar place curled into Remus’ side.

The wolf finds himself at peace.

Sirius’ hair still smells like sandalwood shampoo. She smells of familiar chocolate and coffee beans and her hand still fits into his.

“Remus,” is the whisper that comes in the dead of the night. It may not be in an empty dormitory this time, but it is still very un-Sirius-like and still very worrisome.

“Yes,” Remus says.

“I want everything to be alright.”

 _So do I_ , Remus thinks. Instead of voicing his concerns, he cranes his neck down and presses a soft kiss to Sirius’ pale brow and says, “You have the protection of a werewolf now. No one is going to hurt you.”

“That’s not a thing,” she scoffs.

“How do you know?” Remus asks, “Are you a werewolf?”

“…No,” Sirius says.

“Case and point,” Remus says. He doesn’t tell her it’s a scent mark, that it _will_ make anyone threatening her think twice about doing so. Maybe he should’ve done this earlier, to reassure her, and now he feels bad for doing it and not being frank with her about it.

“Get some rest,” he continues, “I’ll watch over you.”

“My very own guard dog,” Sirius says, “Brilliant. Always wanted one.”

Remus pinches her side. She shrieks with laughter. James snorts in his sleep but does not wake. Peter does not relent in his snoring.

“Whatever you do,” Remus tells her, “I’m here. I’m always here for you.”

He’ll come to eat those words, one day, but for now, in this small oasis, he means them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be kind of sad, as THE PRANK is mentioned. Oh dear.


	3. ...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know how hard it is to write without pronouns? Extremely hard. That's probably why this is shorter.
> 
> Also, this has mentions of suicide and homophobic language, so if that's triggering to any of you, be careful or skip this chapter. Your safety is important!
> 
> Playlist for this chapter: (Cancer/MCR) (Play with Fire/Vance Joy) (Work Song/Hozier)

There are days after THE PRANK as it will later be dubbed that Sirius has no idea what Sirius wants to be called.

James, in the days after THE PRANK can’t even look at Sirius without disgust clear on his face. After all, it was James that saved Snape from the Wolf.

Remus can’t help but feel like it’s partially his fault, though he knows most of it is on Sirius, for even _suggesting_ such a thing to Snape. The Wolf was been more docile during fulls thanks to Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail, but even so, Moony was never a fan of strangers.

Sirius sleeps in the common room most nights, on a pull out bed that magically appeared under a sofa one night. Remus doesn’t know where Sirius’ belongings have disappeared off to, but Sirius says nothing about them missing, so no one brings it up.

It’s not necessarily the fact of THE PRANK that kicks Sirius out of both the girls’ and boys’ dormitory, but the fact that Sirius’ bed disappeared one night and didn’t return. Remus isn’t sure if Sirius ever told McGonagall or Dumbledore, or if there’s simply nothing anyone can do about it.

The staircase still lets Sirius up though, on the rare few occasions James calls for a M-Cubed. Sirius is still a Marauder yet, and thus meetings are still mandatory.

Sirius never says much though. Remus doesn’t know what to say. James doesn’t even look in Sirius’ direction much anymore. Peter, bless him, doesn’t know what to do about anything, but Remus has a feeling they’d all be much worse off without him.

It’s a week before Winter Break starts. Remus was told a few days earlier but Sirius, who refused to look him in the eyes, that Sirius was planning on staying at Hogwarts for break.

“No point in going to James’ for break if he won’t even look me in the bloody eye.” Sirius said. There were apologetic tones in Sirius’ voice, but Remus told Sirius ages ago he didn’t want any more apologies. There could be all the apologies in the world but Remus still needed time to forgive.

They’re in first Potions class of the week and Peter partners with Sirius. Pete’s the only one who has any clue as to how to handle the situation, though this isn’t the first time that Remus thinks that the small, blond boy is the glue that holds them all together.

Though Pete is rubbish at potion brewing, Sirius is particularly adept. (Though that, when brought up in conversation, is blamed on Pureblooded upbringing.) Between the two of them, their skill sets balance one another out and they end up with passing marks.

All of their classes are quieter now that Sirius and James and occasionally Remus aren’t talking to one another. There’s little noise in the dungeon classroom except for the boiling of the potions and the small whine of heat from the burners beneath their cauldrons. In the quiet of their classes, when Remus can’t focus, he misses Sirius something terrible.

As soon as the class is dismissed (but not before a snide remark from Snape about how Sirius is wearing _trousers_ is he finally a _man_ again or will they be in for a fashion show tomorrow?) Sirius gets up the leaves the classroom first and doesn’t wait for the others.

Remus sighs, his heart heavy and his mind torn in two. He’s angry at Sirius, or as angry as he will let himself be (angry plus werewolf equals bad) but he’s worried about Sirius at the same time. Sirius cringes whenever anyone uses pronouns, of any sort, and Remus wishes, not for the first time, he knew what was going on in Sirius’ head.

It’s Lily Evans, of all the people in the world, to be the catalyst in repairing the Marauders. (In years to come, this will be ironically amusing to all of them; how she was the one to save them, even if she did loathe them as a whole.) 

She, always a good friend to Remus and an excellent study partner, grabs Remus by the elbow before he gets out the door.

“I need you to talk to Sirius,” Lily says, her green eyes are fierce in the way they stare up at Remus and her jaw is set in a way that makes her lips pout, like she’s about to throw a punch, “I don’t know what mess you four got into, but I want it fixed. It’s making Sirius miserable and Potter more of an incorrigible toe-rag, and you’re the only one who can fix this. I know Pettigrew is trying his hardest, but I doubt that’s going to keep much longer. You’re the one with the level head on your shoulders, so you are in charge of fixing it.”

She whirls around before Remus can stop her. She goes maybe five paces before turning around and saying, “And if you’re late for rounds this evening, I won’t hold it against you, as long as you fix it!”

Remus doesn’t find a chance to fix it until very late that evening. Sirius had skipped dinner, hadn’t been seen, period, since after the last class of the day.

Finally, he finds Sirius at the top of the astronomy tower looking at the stars.

“Sirius?”

Sirius doesn’t respond. Sirius’ arms are drawn up to Sirius’ chest at the sound of Remus’s words.

“Sirius, we need to talk, please.”

Sirius lets out a mirthless laugh, “What, Potter dubbed you diplomat to tell me I’m being kicked out of the Marauders now, did he?”

Sirius' back is still to Remus. It takes all the will power to stop himself, and mainly Moony, from jumping forward and holding Sirius close. Moony longs for the smell of sandalwood shampoo and chocolate and espresso. Remus, if he’s being honest with himself, which seems rare some days, longs for the smell too.

“No, Sirius, of course not. James is just—,”

“Angry,” Sirius finishes, “I don’t blame him. I would be too. I-I just couldn’t _stand_ Snape, I actually. Actually. Wanted him dead. I just wanted all the fucking comments to stop, you know?”

There’s another bitter, sardonic laugh,“But…but putting you in danger. If you had killed him—or even bitten him, you’d be expelled, or put in a cell in Azkaban or. Or killed. Given the Kiss maybe. I don’t know, it doesn’t matter now, because James is a bloody good bloke for saving that slimy bastard. And you.

“I’ve. I’ve never had anger like that, or so much loathing for one person, expect maybe myself now. Gods, I am such a _prat._ And these days…I can’t. I can’t even stand myself.”

Remus stands now, shoulder to shoulder with Sirius, but not touching. Moony is aching for contact, and so is Remus’ heart, but he’d be nothing if he didn’t follow his head. Contact would only make it harder for the both of them to heal.

“You know,” Sirius says after a moment, “I considered jumping a few times. Whenever I couldn’t sleep at night, I came here and just. Stood on the edge.” A sudden sob escapes Sirius’ mouth and that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. _Damn his logic._ Remus has his arms around Sirius in a second. Sirius fingers knot themselves in the collar of Remus’ shirt, and the werewolf is struck by how _cold_ Sirius’ face and hands are.

“I wouldn’t,” Sirius cries, muffled by Remus’ cloak and jumper, “I wouldn’t. I couldn’t hurt you like that again.”

“You shouldn’t jump for me,” Remus says, voice thick, “You shouldn’t jump for you, _you_ _utter git_.”

And they’re suddenly both laughing and crying hysterically. And no, it’s not alright yet and probably won’t be for a while but Remus has forgiven Sirius now, for better or for worse. Sirius always was Remus’s Achilles heel.

That night, they curl up in the common room together, and James is the one that finds them in the morning. There’s a questioning look on his face, why everything suddenly seems All Better. It’s really not, Remus thinks, but one day soon it would be.

“Just,” James says finally, “tell your parents you’re spending Yule at my house.”

Sirius makes a funny sound in the moment before the two rush to embrace one another.

They walk to class together, the first time in what seems like ages. Sirius is sandwiched between James and Remus, like it should be, like it was before. Everyone seems in better spirits, especially Peter, who, although clueless as to what happened the night previous, is perfectly content to walk in tandem next to James.

And everything _does_ seem All Better on the way to Charms.

“I guess the little queer finally got its friends back!” Snape shouts half-way across the corridor.

It’s the middle of the month, usually the time where Moony is the most docile, or at least the most willing to give Remus a majority of the control. It’s unusual to find anything that Remus and the Wolf agree on (Sirius is one such of these exceptions) but in that moment that Remus draws his wand and shouts a bellowing “ _Stupefy!_ ” He can’t tell if it’s more his or Moony’s doing.

Either way, Snape ends up being thrown against a painting which has several painted centaurs rearing and huffing indignantly.

Remus stalks over to him and regards the Slytherin with a very cold look, “If I ever hear another nasty thing like that out of your mouth about _anyone_ , you’ll wish you had James around to save you again.”

“Is that a threat, half-breed?” Snape snarls.

Remus tilts his head to the side and gives a complacent little smile, “Yes,” he says, “I do believe it is.”

It’s a horrible idea, threatening Snape. He doesn’t trust Snape to keep a secret, and can only hope that the wrath of a werewolf truly is enough to keep him quiet. However, when he turns around and sees the look of adoration on Sirius’ face, the anxiety building in his stomach dissipates.

“My very own guard dog,” Sirius says, echoing old words. They make Remus’ stomach flip, but in a good way this time.

“I wasn’t kidding about the protection thing.” Remus says quietly.

Their exchange earns them questioning looks from the other two Marauders, but it doesn’t matter.

“C’mon,” Remus says, “We’ll be late to class.”

“He says nonchalantly like he didn’t just kick Slytherin arse.” James says in complete deadpan.

They slide into their seats 30 seconds before the bell in the courtyard chimes to signal the beginning of class. In Charms, Remus sits next to Lily, so as Flitwick instructs them to take out their textbooks, Remus whispers to her, “All is well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is their/them pronouns.


	4. they/them/their's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus has a datemate and Sirius is rich again

They/Them/Theirs

The biggest problem, Remus and Sirius find, is that they have to come up with a name for what they are to one another. Remus is very much Sirius’ boyfriend (the word makes Remus’ stomach flip) but neither of them can figure out what Sirius is to Remus.

Girlfriend hasn’t been able to work for two years and boyfriend hasn’t been able to work for longer than that.

They/them pronouns make Sirius happier than having no pronouns at all, but frustrates them all the same because they want a word that will cement them to Remus.

Dating, in actuality, isn’t much different from their friendship. Cuddling only increases in amount and occasionally they kiss one another now. Kissing Sirius quickly becomes one of Remus’ favorite pastimes. Since they have no concept of personal space (or are just particularly touch-starved that day), Remus’ study sessions now include Sirius tucked into his side or sitting across from him in the library, doodling.

Remus watches Sirius from the stands at the Quidditch Pitch. Ever since James became captain of the Gryffindor team, James has had them out practicing almost constantly. Six days a week at six in the morning and then an hour after dinner. Remus isn’t complaining, he rather likes watching Sirius fly around and hit Bludgers away from James and the others. It gives them very nice back muscles that Remus likes to run his hands over.

(It’s also nice to be able to see their hair whip wildly around their face, a strong laugh coming from their mouth as they spin and dive to swing at a Bludger speeding too close to a teammate. They laugh more since James took them away from their family. Well, more like adopted them into a new one.)

It’s a week until Easter (not that the population of Hogwarts cares much, but Remus’ parents still do and send him Kinder Eggs in celebration) and the temperature outside has risen a whole two degrees Celsius since Valentine’s Day. James is just about pissing himself over Quidditch and the impending game that decides the winner of the Cup. So far, Gryffindor has a pretty stable lead, but Slytherin is catching up, only 100 points behind. The shrinking point-deficit is enough to have James pacing for long periods of time and threatening to tear his hair out.

All of the Marauders have had enough of James’ antics, but Sirius the most so. They told James earlier in the week that he was not to come in a meter of them if he was going to talk about Quidditch.

“We’ll win,” Sirius assures Remus, not that Remus was asking, “He’s just got to get himself worked up or we won’t. Does that make sense?”

“No,” Remus says, “Not really. But I think I know what you mean.”

“Good.” Sirius says. They flop down on the couch that Remus has curled himself up on with a cup of tea and a book. It’s something that Sirius had bought him for Yule because they liked the cover, _Watership Down_.

Sirius situates themselves with their head on Remus’ lap. Remus’ attention is drawn from the words on the page of his book to the quicksilver of Sirius’ eyes and their long lashes. Remus thinks that Sirius is wearing mascara today—it’s a good look for them.

The werewolf reaches down to smooth a dark curl out of Sirius’ eyes, and Sirius catches his hand before he can pull back. Sirius’ hands have been more calloused recently because of Quidditch, and also that they’ve taken up fencing with James again, but they’re still just as lovely to hold.

Sirius painted their nails a dark red, which is a stark contrast to the paleness of their skin. Remus brings Sirius’ hand up to his mouth and kisses the back of it. A smile breaks out on Sirius’ face, as well as a blush, and they nuzzle a little closer to Remus’ stomach.

Remus gives up on returning to the book. The wolf has lost interest anyways. Moony is practically purring now that Sirius is close and sprawled over his lap.

“Love you, Moony.” Sirius mumbles into the fabric of Remus’ jumper.

Remus has to stuff down a howl of delight that threatens to bubble up his throat, curtesy of Moony, but clears his throat instead. He continues to run one of his hands through Sirius hair and leans down to whisper, “Love you too, Pads.”

The Common Room is emptier than normal considering the warming temperatures and the unusually sunny day that it was, but the fire still crackles merrily and the chatter of the other Gryffindors provides a calming white noise that threatens to lull Remus to sleep. Sirius snuffles a bit in their sleep but doesn’t threaten to wake.

“Oi, you two, disentangle yourselves for a moment. I’ve got something you’ll wanna hear.” James’ voice cuts through the monotony of Remus’ surroundings and sooner than he would’ve liked, Remus’ eyes are opening.

Sirius is equally disgruntled. About a meter away, they stop their best mate and say, “It’s not about Quidditch is it?”

James shakes his head solemnly, holding a hand over his heart. “On my honor.”

“Or what’s left of it.” Sirius says. “Very well, proceed.”

Sirius sits up to sit fully on Remus’ lap, making room for James to share their couch. Sirius smells like Quidditch leather and nutmeg. Remus wraps his arms around them and presses his temple into their shoulder.

“Alright, Prongsy-boy. Let’s hear it.”

“Two things, actually,” James begins, “Do you want the good news or bad news first?”

“Good,” Sirius says, “Don’t we, Remus?”

Remus shrugs, “Sure.”

James beams, “The good news is that Lily came up with a wonderful word for Remus to call you.”

“Evans, eh?” Sirius laughs. James colors a bit at that, but quickly shakes it off, “Yes, _Lily_. She said that you could be Remus’ _datemate_. What do you think of that?”

Remus watches Sirius’ face for their reaction. Remus is quite in favor of the new word. He likes it. It’s better than just saying, “Yeah, Sirius is just sort of…romantically important to me.” It’s gender neutral and…perfect.

Sirius thinks about it for a few moments, their face screwed up in an image of utter concentration. After a while, Sirius’ face breaks out into a grin and they lunge to wrap their arms around James’ neck.

“It’s perfect, Jamesy-poo. Thanks.” Loudly, Sirius smacks a kiss to James’ cheek. Equally loud, James laughs and gets up, with Sirius still hanging onto him, spinning around with Sirius still in his arms. They’re a couple of laughing, shrieking idiots that end up in a wrestling match on the floor in front of the hearth. A lighthearted feeling erupts in Remus’ chest as he watches his friend and his _datemate_ wrestle on the carpet in front of him.

“So,” Sirius says, sitting on James’ stomach (they always manage to win and Remus never catches how they do it), “What’s the bad news? I’m ready.”

James’ smile melts off his face. The sober look on their best mate’s face has a similar dampening effect on Sirius and so suddenly, the air between the three of them is tense and quiet. The crackling of the fire no longer sounds as merry as it did.

“Right,” James says, “Get off for a second, would ya, Sirius?”

Sirius rolls off of James and settles back on the couch, close enough to Remus they’re practically on top of him, though not quite.

James sits on the coffee table in front of them, a copy of _The Prophet_ in his hands that he produced from his back pocket. “Right there,” he says, pointing to a sidebar on the first page, “And it’s continued on page four.”

Gingerly, as though afraid they’ll be bitten, Sirius takes the paper from James. At the sight of the title that’s just out of Remus’ line of sight, Sirius takes in a little gasp of air. Remus knows that sound well enough. They’re trying not to cry.

“Oh _Merlin_ ,” Sirius whispers. “Gods, not him too.”

They sniffle and drop the paper to dig the palms of their hands into the eyes. Trying his best to not disturb Sirius, Remus takes the paper from Sirius lap and reads the title of the sidebar.

‘ _Old-Money Black Aristocrat Dies at Age 52_.’

He skims the rest of the article, both on the front page and page four.

‘ _Alphard Einar Black died in his Paris home on Tuesday at the age of 52. He was found by his young French lover, the morning of the first of April, having died of a heart attack in his sleep. His death was quickly reported to police and extended family. Foul play does not seem like probable cause. There is no word from the head of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black as to funeral arrangements for A. Black except rumors for a formal reading of A. Black’s will at Gringotts later in the week. Sirius Black is expected to inherit a large portion of A. Black’s wealth—,’_

“Oi,” Remus says, nudging Sirius a bit. Sirius looks up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “What, Moony?”

“Look at this,” Remus says, running his finger under the text Sirius needs to read. It takes two seconds for it to click in Sirius’ head and say in a hushed tone, “That bloody _brilliant_ man.”

The next morning Sirius gets a very formal letter from the ‘desk of Orion Black’ that it is mandatory that they attend the reading of the will.

“I was gonna go anyways,” Sirius whispers into Remus’ neck that night as they cuddle and hold hands under the sheets, “I don’t trust that bloody bitch that birthed me to hand over my rightful inheritance if she’s not forced to.”

So Remus watches in the front courtyard on the morning of April fourth, as Sirius trudges out to the carriage that will take them to the train station. Regulus Black stands proud and slightly dour looking in a black suit under black dress robes, practically blending into the black coach if it wasn’t for his pale complexion. Remus watches with James and Peter from the stone steps that lead into Hogwarts; when the two siblings meet, they shake hands and give one another polite nods. It makes Remus’ heart ache for Sirius—he knows how much Sirius misses their brother.

Sirius turns back around long enough to give them a black-gloved wave and a red-lipped smile before they climb into the coach. The three friends watch until the coach disappears from view and they’re left standing in the cool Scottish morning.

Remus spends the day trying (and failing) not to worry about Sirius. He busies himself getting tea from the kitchens and doing homework and reading the book Sirius gave him, but he and the wolf are still restless. James spends more time on the Quidditch pitch than usual, just flying in circles. Peter eats a few more chocolate frogs that necessary and is exceptionally bad at the potions homework he attempts in the afternoon.

It’s just before supper that the sound of Oxfords can be heard clicking up the steps to the dorm. The door opens with a creak and Sirius steps in, looking drained but still keeping it together.

“’Lo, lads.” Sirius says in a tired voice. James rushes to open his mouth and ask a question but Sirius stops him with a wave of their hand, “Let me get out of this suit and then I’ll tell you everything, yeah?”

Remus can’t help but think that Sirius sounds a little more posh than usual, but that’s probably from spending so much time with their family. There’s a certain front Sirius puts up whenever they’re in a group of high society wizarding-folk. Remus finds it a bit funny.

“Right,” Sirius starts after they’ve put on a Weird Sisters t-shirt, one of Remus’ jumpers and jeans with holes in the knees, “So after being misgendered and having my preferred pronouns stepped all over for the half-hour we were waiting in Gringotts, we finally gathered for the reading of the will. Mother and Father were there, as well as Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella, oh and Reg of course.”

Sirius pauses to flop on Remus’ bed and take the werewolf’s hand in their own, “Ok, and there was this other bloke there, I think his name was Luc or something. He looked about 25, and I think he was Great Uncle A’s lover or something. Anyways. It was actually brilliant because the will basically just said Luc was getting a lot of property and some money and whatever wasn’t specifically given to him or a few others went to me. So I’m rich again and my parents don’t get any of it. Oh, and Reg gets one of Great Uncle A’s antique chess sets or something, and he seemed pretty pleased with that.”

There’s a moment of silence after Sirius finishes their speech, only to be broken when James whoops with glee and punches the air.

“Excellent!” James says, “This calls for major celebration! Pete! Get the ceremonial toasting glasses and the good whiskey. We are getting _pissed_ tonight!”

They toast to Sirius’ Great Uncle Alphard (who got burned off the Tapestry for leaving his money to Sirius, but Sirius says that only makes the inheritance money better) for kicking the bucket and leaving his money to Sirius and down shot after shot of whiskey.

It takes a lot to get a werewolf drunk, so Sirius is pleasantly plastered and Remus is just a tad buzzed when they go to bed. Before they crawl under the covers together, Remus makes his datemate drink a glass of water.

“Rem,” Sirius whispers, “Reeeeemus. Remmy. Moony-moony-moo.”

Remus stifles a laugh, “Yes, Padfoot.”

“When we leave Hogwarts, let’s go live in the country home Great Uncle A left me and we can fuck in every room. Twice.”

Remus lets a chuckle escape this time and kisses Sirius’ forehead. “Alright, love. Whatever you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only one more chapter after this, everyone!


	5. He/She/They

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End! And gosh what an ending. I'm such a sucker for happy endings.

He/She/They

Sirius wore pronouns like one might wear a coat. Easily slipped on. Easily slipped off. Traded in when it stopped fitting or serving its purpose.

There was a relaxed look of acceptance on their face when Sirius said on the last day of Seventh Year, “You know what Remus? I don’t think I care anymore. I…Why can’t I be everything?”

Remus, at the time, couldn’t come up with a reason as to why Sirius couldn’t be everything. He still doesn’t have a reason eight months later as they wait for James’ and Lily’s wedding ceremony to start.

Remus did remember asking what pronouns Sirius wanted. The only answer the werewolf had gotten was a cocky smirk and a, “I’ll keep you updated. But right now—,” a shrug, “I don’t care. I like how all of those pronouns make me feel. Why should I choose just one set?”

And from then on, there were some adjustments to be made. It was difficult at first to get used to such a quick turnaround from weeks where Sirius wanted he/him pronouns to a span of a few days where Sirius preferred she/her. Remus didn’t mind though, and he could tell Sirius was more comfortable with this decision than any other one previously.

Sirius was lovely when he rode his motorbike in a leather corset and bright red lipstick. He was lovely when he waltzed around the room, giving James dancing lessons for his upcoming wedding, stepping on James’ toes in high heels. He would get drunk and climb up on the coffee table in the flat they all shared, reciting Romeo’s lines from the balcony scene and in turn making Pete play Juliet.

And of course she was lovely in jeans and a stolen jumper of her boyfriend’s that smelled like Remus, like parchment and a bit sweet like pot. She liked to dig her stubbly jaw into Remus’ shoulder in the lazy, golden light of the morning; where hours were spent tracing patterns over Remus’ scars and much newer tattoos. She would whoop and holler when she and James and Pete listened to Quidditch on the radio, and when her team won she’d give Remus big lipstick’ed kisses over every inch of skin she could find.

And on days they decided neither male nor female pronouns fit, Sirius reverted back to they/them pronouns. Those days were filled with Lily’s hot chocolate and making blanket forts in the flat’s living room, curled up with Remus as they read the war-stories in _the Prophet_. Remus liked to tangle his fingers in his datemate’s hair or lace his fingers with theirs as they laid together.

Remus is thinking of all these moments with Sirius; everything that Sirius is and everything Sirius will become; as he walks Sirius down the aisle. There had been some question when all the wedding preparation was going on as to what roll Sirius was going to play. Depending on the day, was Sirius going to be the Best Man or Maid of Honor?

“Does it really matter? I’ll be both if you berks can’t make up your minds. Just buy me something to wear and I’ll make a speech is you really want me too.” Sirius had spoken wisely.

Sirius looks lovely in pale blue (he looks lovely in any color really) and gold. The bridesmaids’ dresses are really very nice, and look lovely next to the black curls that cascade down Sirius’ back.

It’s been made unclear on purpose who the Best Man and Maid of Honor are, but Remus doesn’t think it matters in the end. All that matters is that all of them are together for this special day, and Remus couldn’t feel more honored to walk Sirius down the aisle. When the two of them come to the altar, where Dumbledore is waiting, they split to their appropriate sides and wait for the rest of the party to come down the aisle.

Marlene and Pete are next down the aisle, followed by Frank and Alice, who’d been married earlier in the spring. Finally, James walks down the aisle and takes his place to the left of the altar, next to Remus.

“You ready mate?” Remus asks James quietly. He looks rather dashing in his dark blue and gold dress robes, but nervous as hell.

“Yeah,” James breathes, “Been ready for ages.”

Several feet away, Sirius winks at James.

The music kicks up again, lilting and warm in the late summer sun. Lily appears at the end of the aisle in a dress made of white lace, her red hair pulled into a twist at the nape of her neck. She’s beaming as she takes her father’s arm, her eyes only on James. Remus knows that look on Lily’s face well; pure, unadulterated love. Remus knows that’s how he looks at Sirius most of the time, even when something completely idiotic comes out of his mouth.

When Lily’s father hands her off to James, the tears are already starting to flow. James sniffs and Remus hears Lily mutter, “Don’t bleedin’ make me cry, Jamie. You know how long this make up took?”

But her eyes are shining with tears, and the affection is obvious in her voice.

James takes both of Lily’s hands in his own and kisses the backs of them. Dumbledore smiles and begins the ceremony. Remus knows his eyes should be on the couple getting married, two of his best friends he’s loved for _ages_ , but all he can watch is Sirius.

Sirius is crying too, the git, which is going to make Remus start bawling at any time.

He is so blessed, Remus thinks, to be with this glorious man. Woman. Person. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Sirius is always by his side, hand stretched out to be held, lips available for kissing. The Wolf and Remus share one thing in common; well maybe two: the love of Sirius, and the fierce protective nature towards the ones they love.

Before he knows it, Remus comes to the realization that James and Lily are kissing. The crowd of people sitting in the white folding chairs are on their feet as the couple pull away from one another tenderly. It doesn’t matter that a hundred people are watching them; James and Lily only know each other.

They both have bashful grins on their faces, hands clasped and faces flushed as they turn to face their family and friends. Sirius hands Lily her bouquet and the wedding party follows the newlyweds down the aisle.

“Man,” Sirius whispers to Remus as they wrap their arms around one another, “I need a stiff drink. Their love is beautiful and disgusting and if I don’t get drunk I’m gonna vomit before I can make my speech.”

Remus laughs and kisses Sirius’ temple. “I love you.”

Sirius throws his head back, “I love you too, Moons.”

They gather for a reception at Potter Manor. The Potters, and their House Elves, have outdone themselves in the decorations. Gold streamers are draped around the ballroom, and blue table cloths cover every round table in the room. Flutes of champagne are served in tall, shimmering glasses that the attendants of the wedding are more than happy to accept. A bodiless string quartet plays a song that falls just on the edge of one’s consciousness; peaceful background music that doesn’t interrupt mindless small talk over alcohol.

Sirius disappears from Remus’ side long enough to grab them two flutes of glittering champagne. Remus happily accepts and sips at his, watching Sirius down half her glass in one gulp.

“Reckon they spelled it to make it sparkle?” Sirius asks, eyeing her drink thoughtfully.

“Probably, regular champagne isn’t _quite_ so glittery.” Remus says. When Sirius doesn’t answer for a few seconds, Remus gently touches her shoulder and asks, “Everything all right?”

“Just nerves,” Sirius says, breathing out slow and deep, “Don’t want to fuck this up for Jamie and Lils.”

“You will do wonderfully.” Remus says, “You’re a brilliant speaker.”

“Says you,” Sirius says with just a twinge of bitterness, “You don’t have to speak in front of all these people.”

“No one wants to look at me for two to five minutes anyways.” Remus says, “I’m not nearly as nice to look at as you are.”

“Rem…oh, bugger you.” Sirius says. However, there’s hardly any venom in her words as she fits herself neatly into Remus’ side. In her heels, her mouth is much closer to Remus’ than it usually is, so the two of them make quick work of appreciating that fact.

“Oi, you two,” Pete interrupts them when they’re just starting to get comfortable, “Take your places, the bride and groom are about to make their appearance.” He turns towards the ballroom doors, “And stop bloody snogging at their wedding!”

As MC, Peter is arguably the most stressed person in the room. He hustles Remus and Sirius and the rest of the bridal party towards the doors as the string music picks up.

“Ladies and Gents, may I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. James Potter!” Pete says. The room erupts into cheers and whistles again, as Lily and James walk through the doors with their hands clasped tight and matching smiles on their faces.

Their first dance is lovely. Elton John croons in the background as James holds Lily close to him and they sway to the music.

Sirius huffs beside Remus, “If I had known all they were going to do was _sway_ , I would’ve saved my feet the trouble.” They say it fondly however, and when Remus looks at them, their grey eyes are shining.

“ _Merlin_ , I love them both.” Sirius whispers. Remus nods in agreement.

Plenty of times, Remus has found the world to be unpredictable and unsettling. The world is never kind, or accepting. But right now, as James and Lily sway and Peter looks so damn proud of himself for pulling this wedding business off, Remus feels a moment of peace—a perfect memory to be suspended in his consciousness for the rest of his life when everyone was safe and happy.

He thinks of Sirius’ hand in his own, and the Wolf wants to howl in delight. Instead, Remus plays it off by dipping his head far enough to kiss Sirius on their temple.

“You alright, Moons?”

“I’m an absolute lovesick fool, but I’ll live,” Remus says wryly.

“The only medicine I can offer you is a dance,” Sirius says, “If you’ll have me.”

“I’d be even more of a fool not to.” Remus says. James and Lily have finished their dance, and the floor has been opened up to other couples. The newlyweds stand off to the side of the floor and sip their champagne with their heads tucked together.

Remus and Sirius take to the dancefloor. This close, with Sirius’ head placed under his chin, Remus can smell the sandalwood shampoo Sirius still uses.

Together, they sway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, here we are. At the end. Sorry it's taken forever to finish this, but I tried to write the ending like four different times and I didn't like what I wrote one bit. So sorry this is kind of short, but at least you have closure now! Thanks to all who read and commented! I'm glad to have such great feedback for this story.   
> xx

**Author's Note:**

> I am cis myself, so if anyone finds any problems or has a tips for me with this thing, please please please let me know! I want to make this as accurate as possible. 
> 
> Next chapter will be she/her/hers.


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